Killing was never an isolated event for me. The day of a kill always has me on edge. The kill itself was, of course, the main course of my delicious meal. But the days following served as a desert that lingered within me. I was, once again, reborn.
I could finally concentrate on other endeavors. I could laze about my apartment wearing nothing but a robe and basking in the joy of my life. I could work or I could do nothing. Either way I enjoyed myself.
Coffee, hmm that sounded perfect. Since I didn’t cook, my apartment was full of basically nothing. Vodka, Gin, Southern Comfort, and well any kind of juice that serves as a decent mixer. For coffee though, I'm forced to head to starbucks. There’s nothing like overpriced coffee to jump start a beautiful new day.
I dressed quickly and made my way out the door. That’s when I first saw it. I was turning the lock to my apartment when I noticed the plane black envelope taped to front of my door. I took a look around the hallway but it was empty. I opened the envelope with hesitation. Inside was a single plain black sheet of paper. It was obviously expensive. I could feel the heavy weight of it in my hands. It looked like it could have been a strange wedding invitation. I wondered who would send a wedding invitation in what looked more like an invitation to a funeral. I turned the sheet so as to read the back and all I saw were 2 words.
Nice work.
My senses ignited and I gasped. What was I to make of this? Nice work? Was someone congratulating me on my latest project at work? I just finished it yesterday. I hadn't even turned it in yet. That seemed incredibly unlikely. I didn't want to believe that this note had a more sinister inclination. Could someone have seen something last night? I couldn’t think straight. Slow down.
It just wasn’t possible. I had been so careful. Everything had gone so smoothly. I hadn’t come in contact with a single person after meeting Paul. Not one single person was on the beach last night by the time I left. There wasn't so much as a bird. No one had even seen me arrive. Ah, but what if someone had seen me? Was it possible? Well, I supposed anything was possible.
If someone had seen me, why hadn’t they called the police? They would have done or said something. What kind of a person could witness a murder and sit back and do nothing? Does worse than nothing? They leave an envelope on my door as a high five? It just didn’t make sense.
I carefully placed the paper back into its envelope and slid the envelope discreetly into my purse. I headed down the stairs and straight to my jeep. I hopped in and just sat. I hadn’t even bothered to turn the ignition. I just looked on ahead through the windshield.
I had a problem on my hands. The magnitude of that problem was still uncertain. I weighed the possibilities. Could someone have been toying with me? What did they see? When? They could have seen me last night or the countless other murders I had committed. A headache began to mount my skull.
I ran the numbers through my head and they were staggering. Truth be told, the exact number was unknown to me but the number was getting up there. I had a rather large estimate in mind, but not a cold hard number to reference. I killed a lot of people. But never had I been seen or even come close to being discovered. I had needed to be especially careful with my extra curricular activities if I desired to continue.
I suddenly felt the weight of the world take a seat right on my shoulders. Its legs dangled across my chest making it harder for me to breathe. I couldn’t just brush this to the side as I did most of the uninteresting problems that people faced on a daily basis. I needed to find the person who sent me that note. The sooner the better. Right. But how?
Whoever sent me that note would have to make contact again. Surely, they would relatively soon. Or else, why send the note in the first place? I felt the anger rise up. Who sent this? What did they want? Question after question formed without so much as an inkling to a solid answer.
Chapter 8
It was the longest night of my life. Not a wink was shed as I struggled to sleep in my luxuriously plush bed. I must have turned over that card a thousand times in my hand. It didn't do a damn thing as I mulled it over and over again in my head.
I tried, relentlessly, to make sense of it all but it just didn't add up. What exactly could this note have meant? What was the implication? Perhaps I was over-thinking this? It could have been an innocent gesture from a co-worker. Maybe it was put on my door accidentally. Perhaps it was meant for someone else and they had the wrong apartment number. Probably not. I was nothing if not realistic.
If I was certain of anything, it was that this note had a more sinister connotation. But what message was the sender attempting to convey? There was no apparent disgust. Did they enjoy watching? I would have enjoyed watching too. But most people weren’t as sick and twisted as I was.
The blackness of the envelope and the paper’s heavy weight altogether made my skin crawl. This was a formidable feat as I was not easily shaken. The sender, whoever it might be, was sending a message loud and clear. - I saw you.
The implications were innumerable. Was it possible that they could have seen more than just one isolated event? What if someone had been watching me all along? It pained me to think that someone could have seen even a millisecond of my ritual. It was mine and mine alone to enjoy. Those were private events that formed my most treasured memories. It was as if someone intruded on my private life.
Someone was shedding light into my private world. No words could describe the discomfort that plagued me.
I rose from my bed earlier than usual. Might as well get up early if I wasn't getting any sleep. According to the local early morning news, it seemed someone had finally reported Paul missing. Officially, it had been 48 hours since he was last seen.
The news report yielded no known leads. They knew that he was at a bar the night he disappeared but there were no witnesses that could attest to his whereabouts after he left the tavern. Typical. People didn’t tend to care when men went out alone. People always assumed men were fine on their own. That was no longer a general truth. Thanks to yours truly.
Yet, someone definitely saw something. The police were depending on any eye witnesses coming forward with information. Since no body had been found as of yet, it was still technically a missing person's case. It would most likely stay that way for the foreseeable future as I clearly remembered burning his body to a crisp at that beautiful bonfire. It was such a sight. I visualized killing Paul again and it brought a smile to my face. I took in a deep breathe. I lived for moments like that.
I could only hope that the one eye witness that could possibly exist would keep their mouth shut. My life depended on it, quite literally. They wouldn't be able to tie me to any of the other murders I committed for those bodies were long gone by now. The memories of all of their last living moments lived on only within the realm of my mind. Their beautifully sliced bones would forever remain scattered across the state of New Jersey.
But this most recent kill was still fresh. The freshness of it all was the real concern. DNA was still usable and any amount of trace could be found. The more time that lapsed the better shape I was in. That much I knew. But everything else was up in the air.
Frustration consumed me once more. I had never been in a position beyond my control. This could very well be my undoing. Not knowing what the next steps were would prove difficult for me. Every move up until now was so precise, so exact. The situation unfolding before me was uncharted territory.
Any further actions had to be planned with exact precision from here on out. There would be no more late night excursions. I needed the facade of normalcy for the immediate future. I would need to keep my eyes peeled for anyone or anything out of the ordinary.
Whoever had seen me that night, not only saw what I did, but knew where I lived. They had enough to end me in any which way they deemed appropriate. I could not give them the satisfaction of allowing them the knowledge that they'd rattled my cage. Whenever they came back, and they would come back, I had to be ready.
That's when I h
eard the tiniest shuffle behind my apartment door. It wasn't a knock, or even a rasp. Obviously, the person came unannounced and wanted to remain unnoticed. Instinct initially led me to the door to see who was there but I quickly shot in the opposite direction.
I peered out of my second story living room window. A slow drizzle had started to fall turning the sky a dull gray. A man appeared wearing a black hoodie. He sludged on through the wet sidewalk inconspicuously. Each step took him further and further away. I watched anxiously for a glimpse at his face but his hoodie provided the perfect cover. I couldn't see much else and as quickly as he had appeared, he turned the corner and he was gone. I dashed to the door and right there just as it was before, was yet another big black envelope.
Chapter 9
The envelope sat on my counter top taunting me as I boiled water to make tea. Coffee was preferable, especially under the circumstances but all I had was water and a few tea bags. It would have to do for now. This had less to do with being thirsty and more to do with keeping these hands busy.
I sat there staring at the envelope as if it would provide me with the meaning of life. Fear prevented me from tearing it to shreds in order to read its contents. Curiosity, on the other hand, seemed to take over and before I could talk myself out of it once more I opened it and inside was another plane black sheet of paper. Just like the other. Two envelopes in as many days.
I turned the card over. Was this a joke? It had to be because all this card had written on it was a set of numbers.
09 07 13
It looked like it could be a combination code. But to what? I didn't own any type of combination locks. These specific digits didn't ring any bells.
Suddenly bells actually did start to ring. But it was my cell phone across the room. Caller ID told me it was my boyfriend Eric. Not a good time, but I knew I had to answer anyway.
"Hello," I chirped. Eric was obviously unaware of my extracurricular activities and it needed to stay that way. Now, more than ever.
"Good morning honey. You sound like you were actually awake."
"Uh, yes I was,” I defended myself. “Must you mock my sleeping patterns?" Eric always poked fun at my ability to sleep through countless hours. This was not the case last night, however. The cumulative number of blinks accounted for all of the time that my eyes were actually closed. How could I sleep with all those thoughts racing through my head at what seemed like the speed of light?
My insomnia would most likely set in again. I hadn't suffered through a bout of insomnia in the better part of a year. It had a habit of coming in cycles. Insomnia was a nasty little bugger that crept up on you just when you needed sleep the most. It always started off as innocent as a night with too little sleep. This quickly escalated to not having slept in 3 days. Then it worsened or improved from there. I silently pleaded that this was a one night stand with my dear old friend insomnia. I just couldn’t afford a long- term relationship with her right now.
"Sorry," he replied as I took a sip of tea. "I figured you would sleep in late today. You usually sleep longer when you know your family is coming over."
Suddenly, I choked up the tea and started coughing profusely. I spit up tea all over myself and on the floor. "Whoa...you alright there killa?" Eric asked.
"Shit Fuck!" I screamed into the phone.
"You forgot they were coming didn't you Jolene?" Eric mocked. He didn’t outright laugh but I could hear the grin in his voice.
A few weeks ago I had agreed to have everyone come over for dinner Saturday night. And I guess today was that Saturday night. It had completely slipped my mind. What with, this teeny tiny crisis looming over my head, my family dinner had fallen a few notches back on my priority belt.
"Yeah, I fucking forgot." I really did not have the time for this. But I could not exactly express my concerns to Eric.
"Hey, don't catch that tone with me. You forgot, and I just reminded you. So chill the fuck out." Eric was an incredibly understanding person and the perfect guy for me. But even he could lose his patience with me at times.
He was incredibly loving and caring and I never had any cause for complain or concern. He took care of me. But most of all he made sure I took care of myself. If I didn't have a habit of leaving in the middle of the night for a kill he would have moved in a long time ago. I most certainly appreciated having someone like him around.
"Ok, so what else did I agree to?" I asked because I could have agreed to anything to get my mom off the phone. She would begin with one little suggestion and before I knew what was happening, I was signing on for a two week trip to the Bahamas. My mother loved to pile on the requests all at once.
"Actually, you don't have to do much. Your mother is bringing dinner over to you." Good. I wasn't a cook and I wasn't about to start now. Not like I could even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.
"I can't believe I forgot Eric. I'm so pissed at myself right now. I Don-"
"Relax babe," he interrupted. "Take a deep breath. It's just your parents and your brother and sister. Nothing major. Just make sure your place looks decent or It'll be all they talk about till they leave. I don't wanna sit through it and neither do you."
"Ok. You’ll be here right?”
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I better get started. I'll call you later. Love you."
"Love you, bye." He hung up.
Fuck. The last thing I needed was for my family to roll on through. I just didn’t have time for this right now. I checked my calendar to make sure this was on the schedule. Sure enough, there it was.
08 31 13
Parents coming over for dinner
The gears shifted into place right then and there. The little pieces of a broken puzzle came together to form a hazy picture. The fact that my parents were heading my way in a few hours no longer concerned me. The synapses in my brain finally came together to make some sort of sense. I grabbed the black envelope once again and stared at those tiny numbers once more.
The numbers weren't a combination code at all. The numbers. The numbers. The numbers were a date.
09 07 13
September 7, 2013. I had hoped that figuring out the numbers would provide more clarity as to what the sender was alluding to but it was still amiss. I checked my calendar once more. The day was right around the corner.
It would be one week from today. Was the 7th of September the starting point or ending point? Was it an engagement? Trying to sort this out proved to be hopeless. Each question yielded yet another and another one after it with no end in sight.
Nice work and 09 07 13. That was it. Nothing more and nothing less. Two words and six digits and I was supposed to decipher them and give them meaning? What a cruel game to play. If it even was a game.
Either way, I had a dinner party to get ready for. Apparently, I had a week to elaborate on any other possible meaning before the deadline. Was it a deadline? I couldn’t be sure. But I would treat it as such, for now.
Chapter 10
"Jolene, I’m so happy to see you!" Exclaimed my mother as she hurriedly got out from the passenger seat of that awful green mini van. Nothing against mini vans, but that green was not so easy on the eyes.
"Hi mom. Hi dad." I mustered up all the bubbly infectious energy I could rile up inside of me and unleashed it upon my lovable mother and father.
My father slowly removed himself from the driver's seat and shut the door behind him. "Jolene. How are ya?" My father asked sincerely. He grabbed me by the arm and gave me a big tight hug. The kind that dads give their little girls. God, I had missed them so much. Even with all the added stress in my life, it felt good to see them again. Even if it meant they would spend the night irritating me to the point of exasperation. Hey, that’s what parents are for.
I helped them bring up the food and my mother immediately set up shop in the kitchen. She began gathering plates and utensils, moving seamlessly through my kitchen with much greater finesse than I could ever hope for
.
My father of course, plopped himself in front of the television waiting to eat. He never actually said it, but I knew he really only ever went anywhere for the food. My place was no exception. Seeing me was an added bonus.
I took a seat on the couch next to my father and as usual, he surfed straight to the Yankee game. Hmm. Mom preparing food in the kitchen and my father sitting on the couch with me watching baseball. Some things never changed. And for that I was grateful.
"Where are Jennifer and Greg?" I asked. My brother and sister who, like me, never made enough time to see family were M.I.A at the moment. I didn't blame them though. Our parents could be pushy and more than intrusive from time to time. Young adults didn’t appreciate being pushed or intruded on.
I could certainly understand where they were coming from. But I just couldn't say no to my parents. Since childhood, whatever they requested, I acquiesced. I suppose I could be described as overly pious. I have always been a people pleaser, though, I took it a step further with my mother and father.
"Oh you know, Jolene. They're busy doing this and that. They're young and vibrant. They always have something going on," replied my mother.
“Jenny’s got some new boyfriend in Argentina. Been a whole month!” my mom smiled knowingly. Jenny was a party girl. She couldn’t enjoy the company of a the same man for too long. She was too full of life and always needed more. Jenny was a genius too. She was the brains of the Hedon bunch but never cared much for school. As a kid, a day didn’t go by without Jenny complaining that school was “so boring.” She hadn’t studied a day in her life but managed straight A’s without a single smear of a B. Lucky bitch.
She’s decided after her first year of college that she’d had enough and would travel the world and see everything there was to be seen instead. No matter where she went or what she’d experienced, there was always something else to do and something else to see. She could never get enough. Maybe it was middle child syndrome. With me being the oldest and Greg the youngest, Jenny was stuck right in the middle.
All of Her Men Page 3